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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275299">Only Hear My Music In the Dark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturnJay/pseuds/mechanistmacha'>mechanistmacha (SaturnJay)</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturnJay/pseuds/SaturnJay'>SaturnJay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Blaiddyd's soul is in Dimitri, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Listen I just want Dimitri to love Sylvain, M/M, Sad Sylvain Jose Gautier, Sleeping Beauty Elements, Soft Sylvain Jose Gautier, Soul Bond, Soulmates, blatant Sylvain appreciation, problematic relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:34:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,634</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturnJay/pseuds/mechanistmacha, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturnJay/pseuds/SaturnJay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dimitri has heard the story so, so many times. A beautiful Prince, the fabled Gautier, fell in love with a beast and turned himself into stone when he could not be with him. That was why there were no Gautier heirs. He didn't expect to find the statue in the castle catacombs. He didn't expect that Gautier would mistake him for his ancestor. He didn't expect he'd soon be falling in love with him...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>(but in a way it's actually Blaiddyd/Gautier), Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Or even Dimitri/Gautier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Set In Stone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Listen, there's no excuse for this. I just wanted to have Dimitri love on Sylvain, okay? Get off my dick XDDDD</p>
<p>Warnings for this chapter: none</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For fic updates and (sometimes) art, you can follow me @Mechanist_Macha</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And that is why, to this day, there is no one who bears the Crest of Gautier.”</p>
<p>Felix looked up sharply from his brother’s lap. “Again,” he commanded him.</p>
<p>“Again?” Glenn sighed, chuckling as he shook his head. “Why must I always tell it to you twice, Fe?”</p>
<p>But Felix would not be deterred. “Because you always tell it to me when I’m tired,” he huffed, complaining in whatever passed for childish logic. “And Dima is already asleep.”</p>
<p>Glenn turned to look down with a smile at the little prince, curled up on the pillows and snoring softly away. His day had been exhausting, poor thing, his parents unable to spend any time with him on their daily review of meetings with important nobility and commoners who had complaints. When that happened, Dimitri and Felix were both left in the care of tutors, and Dimitri had to be trained <em> exhaustively </em> to repress the Crest of Blaiddyd when he learned to spar.</p>
<p>“Oh, I see,” Glenn grinned, leaning forward to conspire with Felix. “You want me to tell it again so you can wake Dimitri up, don’t you?”</p>
<p>“It’s his favorite story, and he missed half of it!” Felix complained in a hiss. It was like a kitten hissing at him.</p>
<p>“Hm…” Glenn mused. “I don’t really want to wake him up, though, Fe. He’s really tired.”</p>
<p>“But I want to hear it…” Dimitri sat up, pawing at his sleepy blue eyes, woken by their whispered conversation. “I’m sorry I fell asleep, Glenn. Please tell it one more time?” he begged, barely restraining a yawn. Felix gave Glenn his best ‘I told you so’ pout. Dimitri didn’t get a lot of time to spend with Glenn anymore now that he’d become a knight, and he so loved his stories.</p>
<p>“Very well,” Glenn sighed, shaking his head. He really couldn’t deny both of them, the onslaught of those hopeful faces combined was too much. It was a good thing little Ingrid wasn’t here too, or he’d never have gotten them to sleep at all. “Once upon a time, there was a handsome prince.”</p>
<p>“Last time, you said <em> beautiful </em>prince!” Felix cried triumphantly, pointing out that he’d been right about him changing parts of it.</p>
<p>“Just how many times are you going to interrupt, Fe?”</p>
<p>“He won’t!” Dimitri cried, dragging Felix from Glenn’s lap and hugging him tightly to silence him. “Go on, please!”</p>
<p>So cute. “All right, then, but you two had better promise. Once upon a time, there was a <em> beautiful </em>prince…”</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
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</p>
<p>
  <em> Once upon a time there was a beautiful prince. He was as charming as he was handsome, and as he was still unwed, he was showered with attention by many young men and women, all who desired either to rule the wealthy country by his side, or covet the prince himself. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> But he lived only in a fanciful cage. The prince was not cherished for anything but his beauty and his good nature. None cared to talk to him except to discuss possible marriage prospects. His other talents, his gift for magic and music, his love of reading and games of strategy... These were all ignored in favor of the prince governing his people from his throne as a figurehead, while his advisors steered him to and fro as an icon, an idol for his people to gaze upon. Once he produced an heir, his usefulness would have been served, and none would care about the prince at all. This, he knew.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Feeling lonely even in a sea of people, he took his beloved horse and his beloved instrument and wandered off alone one day, managing to give his many guardians the slip. He did not intend to go far and not for too long, but soon, he became lost in a forest of shadow, where terrors were known to lurk. By his skillful magic, he lit the darkness with a glowing hand, to show the path he hoped to find that would guide him back home. But amidst the dark and twisted trees, the light drew unwanted attention. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> From the mouth of a cave, a one-eyed beast loomed in the darkness, snarling, ‘Why have you come into my domain?’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Terrified, the prince summoned the reserves of his charm and gave the beast a kindly smile while he steadied his horse, pretending not to be afraid. ‘Why, I have come to the darkness to shed light upon the gentle creatures who lived here. Forgive me, I did not know it was your domain.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘I have no need for light,’ the beast growled. ‘It hurts my eye. I will devour you for intruding on my peaceful shadows!’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The Prince was quite frightened, but he tried to think quickly, tried to think of what he could offer the beast so that he might live. He had nothing of use but himself. He asked with hope, ‘Perhaps I can win my life back from you with a game of chess?’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Surprised, the beast considered his offer. ‘Very well. I have been lonely. A game will not hurt. If I win, I will devour you. If I lose, you may go free.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The Prince was cunning, and knew he could not trust the beast to keep his word. He thought, 'if the beast loses, he might become enraged and devour me anyway.' So he said, ‘Very well, I humbly beg of you only one last request. If you win, please allow me to play my music one last time before you do as you please.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Again, the beast considered his words. ‘Very well. You may play one song.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The Prince knew that he had to let the beast win. So he played intelligently until the very last moment, placing his pieces just so. In the end, though he was brilliant enough that the beast was snarling in frustration, the Prince forfeited his Queen, and let the one-eyed beast take away his victory. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘You are cunning,’ the beast said, surprised. ‘You lost on purpose.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘I simply became too arrogant,’ the Prince protested with a charming smile. ‘May I please play my song?’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘You may.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The Prince played the most beautiful song, delicate and sad, hoping to move the beast's heart to let him live. Sure enough, by the time the song had finished, the beast was weeping. The Prince had never once been asked to play a song for anyone before, and so he had never known how his music could charm most any creature, even a hard-hearted beast. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘I have not had music in so long,’ the beast admitted. ‘And your song was so lovely. For now, I will let you live. Stay with me. Play that sweet music until I devour you.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The Prince agreed, and began to play once more. So lost in his own relief and the sound of his instrument, the Prince forgot he was in a dark forest, playing for a beast, and began to lose himself in the joy of simply playing. Simply being. He would wait for a time when the beast would fall asleep so he could make his escape, he thought. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Unfortunately, it seemed that the beast did not eat nor sleep. Like a ghost, he simply lingered. He eyed the Prince's beloved mare many times, but the Prince would play him a beautiful song to distract him from eating her. He offered to play many more games, to show the beast impressive displays of his magic. In time, the Prince became invaluable to the beast, and in time, the Prince began to fall deeply in love with the creature who appreciated all that he longed to offer. In the darkness, the beast could not call him beautiful, could not merely think of him as someone to wed. The beast kept him because his sharp wit, his stories, his songs and skills brought the beast joy. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘I think I will not devour you,’ the beast said one day. ‘You have brought me such happiness, human. Stay with me in the dark so that I will not be lonely.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Curious, the Prince finally asked, ‘Why is it that you live here alone? You seem so miserable.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The beast was reluctant at first, but at the Prince’s insistence,the beast told him a story in turn.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘I once was human like you. I had a family that filled my days with laughter and warmth. I loved them more than anything in the world. But they were slaughtered by Wizards of Light, and, in seeking my revenge, I tore them apart. My own people were afraid of me. They chased me here and here I remain, a wandering beast.’ </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The truth was that the beast had once been the Prince of a neighboring kingdom, and had long since vanished. So moved by the beast's plight, and so deeply in love with him, the Prince remained by his side. Occasionally, the beast would threaten to devour him, but the Prince knew that it would not come to be. He was glad to have his talents appreciated in the dark where no one could compliment his beauty. The beast admired him for his skill and cunning, not his charm. He was not like the people of the Prince’s home. He was earnest and caring, and though he was a beast, the Prince was not afraid of him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Unfortunately, the Prince's kingdom suffered without him. They searched and searched and eventually sent their most renowned warrior to the forest to find him. When the warrior saw the Prince was the captive of a beast, she struck. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> There was a fearsome battle, in which the Prince tried to soothe them both, begging to stop the fight. But finally, the warrior struck a deadly blow to the beast. In his despair, the Prince knelt at the side of the beast, weeping. He held his claws while he lay dying. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘I will find you again,’ the beast promised the Prince, holding his hand. ‘I will return to the living and search for you, I swear it.’ His single eye closed and he slipped away. Having no reason to remain in the forest now, the Prince returned in misery to his Kingdom. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> But he believed the beast's words that he would find him again. The Prince spent years obsessed with a single spell, searching for a way to meet the beast once more. He worried that he would not live long enough for their meeting to take place, for who knew what magic the beast had wrought? He refused the responsibilities of his Kingdom, refused to wed, and performed the spell a few years later, transforming his body into stone to await the day when the beast would return to him. </em>
</p>
<p>
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</p>
<p>It was Dimitri’s love of competition that drove him into the Fhirdiad castle depths that morning. So rarely did they have nothing to do but fool around anymore--they were adults with responsibilities they could not refuse or ignore, so on rare days like this one, he wasn’t going to turn down a game. Only… now he was sure he was well and truly lost. To his credit, he’d never been this far into the catacombs and he knew good-hearted Ingrid would not <em> intend </em> for him to get lost but…</p>
<p>But just where <em> was </em>he?</p>
<p>He couldn’t even put a hand on the stone walls without them coming away slimy and wet. He was very grateful for his gauntlets then, even though his greaves were positively soaked through at this point, having had to wade in some very questionable murk already. He had been determined to win, to find the statue of the Dark Knight Ingrid <em> swore </em>she’d seen down there once when Felix ran off with her plate of food that one time and hid it in the catacombs. But surely they hadn’t come this far? Now he was only determined to find his way out.</p>
<p>The situation was desperate enough that he’d even shouted for help, but if anyone had heard him, there was no response. He had hoped, at least, that Felix would hear him, having gone down the opposite tunnel, but they might be miles apart by now for all he knew. He was exhausted and hungry and <em> filthy. </em> And he wasn’t used to feeling that too terribly much since he was, well... the crown prince of Faerghus. He wondered if his father or stepmother would reprimand him for going missing this long. At this point, he’d just be glad to see them.</p>
<p>And then he stumbled upon it. He’d had to reluctantly put his hand on the wall, shocked by how much the passageway narrowed. He should have turned back, but his curiosity at seeing such a tiny place bewitched him and he just had to see where it came out. His knees ached from crouching--the tiny corridor had to be maybe four feet tall, and Dimitri was not a short man.</p>
<p>But where it came out, well… it was worth the trip.</p>
<p>He had thought he must be far, far underground, but sunlight was filtering through emerald strands of ivy in the little cavern. If he looked up the cylindrical shaft of stone, he could see a grate that trickled down what appeared to be very clear water, nothing like the probable waste Dimitri had waded through before. It pooled on the floor, yet never seemed to gain more than a thin layer of shining puddle. Standing in the center, just small enough to fit the small room, was the statue of the Dark Knight Ingrid must have meant.</p>
<p>It was an old, old thing, a man carved in ancient robes with his hand affectionately on the flank of a beautiful mare. As Dimitri straighted, wiping the grime from his cape, he stared, transfixed by the craftsmanship. It was stone, but it appeared so, so real. He drew closer, not even thinking of his triumph of having beat Felix to the win.</p>
<p>What about the statue looked… familiar? Dimitri had surely never seen it in his lifetime. He stood beside it and marveled--they were about the same height, he and this Dark Knight. His clothing looked to be a relic of some far-flung era, but each fold, though faded by time and water, seemed so masterfully crafted. Dimitri could see every crease of the man’s sad eyes, of his beautiful nose. What a handsome creature… no wonder someone deemed him worthy of carving.</p>
<p>Dimitri smiled, feeling strangely <em> safe </em> here. He walked around the statue, inspecting it, finding new details. Tiny braids in the mare’s mane and tail, little flowers too. Beside them, also carved into the base of the statue, was an absolutely gorgeous instrument, a violin Dimitri believed, lying beside them in a carved, wooden case.</p>
<p>Dimitri frowned, leaning forward. There was a symbol worn into the case, into the man’s robes, into the horse’s saddle. He recognized it but… he couldn’t tell from where.</p>
<p>So odd.</p>
<p>As Dimitri continued to study his face, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being <em> observed. </em>But surely that was impossible. If anyone had followed him down here, he’d have heard them for sure. Even stealthy Felix could not hope to be silent in a place so slippery.</p>
<p>His eyes were drawn again to the Knight’s face.</p>
<p><em> “You’re </em>not watching me, are you?” he joked, shaking his head with a smile.</p>
<p>And of course the statue did not answer but something here felt <em> wrong. </em> Dimitri stepped closer, frowning as he gazed upon the beautiful face of the wizard. He wore a sash over his broad chest, revealing lithe muscle, so expertly crafted. He was honestly <em> beautiful. </em>Looking at him rekindled uncomfortable feelings that Dimitri had tried so, so hard to repress when he was around his other male friends, feelings he knew he shouldn’t have. He swallowed, finding himself mesmerized by the statue’s eyes, his lips.</p>
<p>Well, it <em> was </em>just a statue, after all.</p>
<p>Stepping forward as if drawn by some strange magnetism, he found his feet between those of the statue and gently kissed it, letting his eyes fall shut and feeling his heart hammer painfully as he leaned close. The statue was, of course, cold stone, and yet it felt somehow <em> warm </em>to the prince. As if perhaps something lurked beneath the surface.</p>
<p>When he pulled away, he was breathless, as if he had kissed a living person for the first time. He covered his mouth in shame, shaking his head. What had he been thinking?</p>
<p>A sudden creaking sound made him jump, and when he whirled around, he found himself alarmingly trapped. The corridor he had come through was blocked off by a heavy iron grate that had fallen into place all of the sudden. Panicked, he splashed over to it and searched for a release. The one he found utterly broke off in his hand. Damn. Well, he didn’t have monstrous strength for nothing. He’d feel guilty breaking it, but honestly, he just wanted to get out of here. Maybe the Goddess was punishing him for his depraved fantasies. He seized the grate and <em> tugged </em> with all of his might, feeling the power of the Blaiddyd Crest activate within him.</p>
<p>It didn’t budge.</p>
<p>After that, it was shouting down the corridor to get someone’s attention and several intermittent attempts to wrench the iron from its hold in the wall. But it was sturdier than it seemed. Even heaving a boulder at the iron only warped it slightly, and not enough to pull himself through.</p>
<p>He was trapped, and no one knew where he was.</p>
<p>At some point, in his weariness, he had dozed off against the wall, feeling almost dizzy from his exertions. When he opened his eyes again, the sunlight filtering in from above had gone, was much softer moonlight instead.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>And he could hear <em> music. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Muscle Memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>With the statue awakened, what fate awaits Dimitri next?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I picked the name Siobhan as a reference to the way they say Sylvain's name in the Japanese version. Siobhan is pronounced sha-VONNE, and シルヴァン (which is Shi-ru-vuan) sounds a lot like Siobhan.</p><p>Warnings for this chapter: none</p><p>For fic updates and (sometimes) art, you can follow me @Mechanist_Macha</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The song filled not only Dimitri’s ears, but his mind, bathing his aches and bruises with a soothing relief. There was <em> magic </em> in the sound, words of the Goddess being sung over every note, with such beauty that Dimitri was sure he had died and gone to the Goddess’s arms. As he lifted his heavy head, the movement seemed slow but easy. Someone was… <em> healing </em>him. He’d felt the touch of white magic before, but usually only on severe injuries. He’d never had it used just for a sore back and legs from all the wading through the tunnels, and it was heavenly.</p><p>The song faded, but the singing voice went on, speaking with such clarity and peace that Dimitri could not be afraid when he looked up, and saw the statue bending over him. “You are awake, my beast.”</p><p>The stone had vanished, as though a master artist had swept down with a paintbrush in hand and stolen the very color of the orange dawn to use for his hair, his eyes as soft and pliant as new spring bark. He smiled down at Dimitri and offered his hand, which the prince took as though drunk, reacting automatically, still spellbound by the man of living stone.</p><p>He was strong indeed to pull up someone as large as Dimitri without fuss. Cradled in his other hand was the neck of the violin, no longer rock but beautifully carved wood. And standing on the stone dais, drinking her fill, was the mare.</p><p>Dimitri just stared. The stranger laughed, a pretty sound, low and humming, not unlike a song from an instrument in and of itself. “You look so confused,” he said. “To be honest, so am I. I never expected you would take human form like this.”</p><p>“Like this?” Dimitri repeated dumbly, still utterly lost and surely dreaming. “I… I <em> am </em> human, what… what are…?”<br/>
The man smiled and tilted his head. “That’s right. You told me that too, I suppose. That you were human once, before…” He had not taken his hand off of Dimitri’s wrist and now it traveled lightly up his arm, a gentle touch which made Dimitri shiver, and though he knew he <em> should </em> pull away, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. “Well, that doesn’t matter now, does it? You’re <em> alive, </em>and you have returned to me.”</p><p>Now Dimitri was the statue as the man stepped in close, hemming him in against the damp walls of the tunnel, his free arm curled about Dimitri’s neck as he kissed him.</p><p>Dimitri had kissed the statue, he was sure that part had been real, because in his dreams he was never too nervous to kiss--especially something that wouldn’t know or judge him for it. But he was sure that he did not have the power to kiss life into statues, and something was <em> very </em>wrong here. He should be pushing him away, but the man’s lips were so soft, and Dimitri was cornered and he didn’t really want it to stop, stranger or not. He didn’t even honestly know if he was kissing him back, he felt his body tingling all over and just stood there, staring in shock.</p><p>Eventually, the man pulled away, but he did not smile now. He looked worried, his handsome brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, his hand sliding over Dimitri’s hair to cup his cheek. “Are you not pleased to see me?”</p><p>Dimitri’s lips parted, still tingling from the rush of bliss from kissing the stranger. Technically, he supposed, it was their second kiss, but Dimitri had not gotten nearly as much of a rush kissing the stone statue than the man the statue became. But how did he confess he had no idea who he was or what he was talking about?</p><p>“I… I think you have me confused with somebody else?” he breathed out, his voice a little higher than usual, but there was no controlling that when he was this nervous.</p><p>The man did not let go of him or step back or even get that anxious look that people often had when making such a mistake. Instead, he shook his head. “There’s no way. You are the only one who can return me to life.” Finally, he paused, and really studied Dimitri. “You… you don’t remember me?”</p><p>Dimitri was <em> positive </em>he’d remember someone this damned beautiful. He shook his head.</p><p>The warm hand finally fell from his cheek and the stranger stepped away. For some reason, that distance ached low in Dimitri’s gut, but not as much as seeing the man’s brown eyes become so despairing.</p><p>“I see…” he breathed, taking the violin and bow in both hands, inspecting the strings with a sudden interest, but he was badly hiding his distress as it was. “You never mentioned… well, that is to say, I didn’t think it would be like this. But… I assume you must have transcended vessels, haven’t you?” He looked up with a little more hope in his eyes. “Perhaps there will be some way to remind you?” he suggested.</p><p>Dimitri blinked. “Like… what?” He still had no earthly clue if this was real or not. He considered pinching himself, but it was all he could do to even look away from the man.</p><p>“Hm… I would assume some secret arcanum.” The statue moved over to his horse, a beautiful black mare and put his hand gently on her flank. “You still remember me, right Lady?” She turned from drinking and bumped her muzzle affectionately against the man’s arm, seemingly searching for something. He laughed, light and relieving, and produced something, an herb, from his pocket. “All right, then, Lady. You’ve earned it, such a good girl…”</p><p>She gobbled up the herb with eagerness and then mouthed at his hair with her lips. “Lady! Come on!”</p><p>It was like watching a touching reunion, seeing the man and Lady play with each other so readily.</p><p>“Who…” Dimitri’s voice cut through the ethereal air and sounded so ugly to his own ears, not something he’d ever thought before. “Who are you?”</p><p>That laughter, that smile died so readily that Dimitri regretted speaking at all. The man turned, more somber than the statue had been when it stood there, allowing Dimitri to kiss it because it had been <em> stone </em> at the time. “Siobhan,” he said softly, and with all the gravity of someone who expected that name to be <em> known. </em>“Siobhan Gautier.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Felix returned, frustrated and fruitless in his attempts to find the Dark Knight that Ingrid swore up and down she’d seen, he returned to many panicked faces. The Prince had not returned, and the King and Queen were, understandably, worried about him. It seemed Ingrid had gone to fetch them in her worry, and now scouts were being sent into the tunnels to investigate.</p><p>“This is all <em> your </em>fault!” Ingrid hissed to Felix.</p><p>“How in the hell is it <em> my </em> fault he went and got lost, Ingrid? <em> You’re </em>the one who made up this stupid game!”</p><p>“I know, <em> I know!” </em> Ingrid whined. The guilt was killing her. She knew she shouldn’t have made up this stupid competition, but Felix loved to prove himself, and it was his birthday. Dimitri had been all too happy to play, and now she wished he had been more sensible, like <em> she </em> usually was, and decided against it.</p><p>A few hours passed, and both Ingrid and Felix were forbidden to go down and look for him in case they also got lost. It was, decidedly, not the best birthday Felix had ever had. Both he and Ingrid continued to pace, wracked with guilt, when finally, before any of the scouts returned, they heard a pair of footsteps to go along with a blonde head, hair made grimy by scraping the low ceilings of the tunnels. Dimitri was seized by his mother before anyone else, understandably, and then by his father and friends. He looked a little dazed, and it was almost a full minute before anyone even realized that there was someone else with him.</p><p>Someone they’d never seen before.</p><p>“A pleasure,” said the stranger, with a smile that could blind, sweeping into a low bow to show the crown of his russet apple hair. And it was as though he had stepped from a portrait from centuries past, his clothing trimmed in the coarse fur of their ancestors, and wrapped over his chest before the era of buckles and finely stitched evening coats. He wore the sandals of an age long gone, sandals that Ingrid <em> recognized. </em></p><p>“Y-you’re…” she stumbled immediately, letting go of the pile that embraced Dimitri to point in shock. “You’re the dark knight!”<br/>
The man stood up from his bow and cocked his head to one side. “The… dark knight?”<br/>
He was immediately seized by two heavy-handed guards who had recovered from their surprise at seeing the invader, obviously not known to them. Dimitri quickly struggled to get free of his overprotective parents and cried out for them to let him go, but it turned out not to be necessary. At a mere word from the stranger, the guards held smoke instead of flesh--smoke that reformed a few yards away with a frown as he dusted himself off.</p><p>“That is <em> quite </em>a rude way to receive a prince and the beloved of your King.”</p><p>The statement in and of itself was enough to cause frozen panic on everyone’s faces, especially Lambert’s, who immediately started sputtering that he had never met the man in his life, started swearing his loyalty to Patricia in increasing hysterics, until the stranger moved and wrapped his arm lovingly around Dimitri’s.</p><p>Siobhan laid his head against Dimitri’s shoulder, smiling contentedly and ignoring the fuss, which died as quickly as it sprung up. For his part, Dimitri continued to look bewildered as the King and Queen approached the pair of them cautiously.</p><p>“Dimitri,” Lambert frowned, stern and fretful. “Where did you meet this man? How did he come through the tunnels? I have never seen him before.”</p><p>Dimitri did not know how to answer that. He just stood there with his mouth hanging open, working his tongue to remember how to speak. Surely there <em> was </em> no proper way to answer that. How could he say that he had kissed a long-forgotten statue to life and he seemed to… <em> know </em>him somehow?</p><p>Ingrid said it for him. “That’s the dark knight statue I was talking about…” she said, clearly dumbstruck. Silence fell as all eyes turned on Dimitri and the stranger, who still clung to his arm possessively.</p><p>“I <em> was </em> a statue, yes,” he smiled, lifting his head as though it was a great burden to be detached from Dimitri in any way. “I did not realize I was called the Dark Knight. My family Crest was all over the statue in hopes that no one would destroy it.” He frowned. “Obviously, given all the tunnels I went through to get to civilization again, I was forgotten. Ah, well. I am here now, and awoken.” He inclined his head respectfully. “At your service, I am Siobhan Gautier.”</p><p>The flurry of activity which followed was dizzying to Dimitri, who was honestly just… so, so exhausted. He had spent an entire day clambering clumsily through tunnels too small for him to stand up in (but not too tall for Felix, he had teased before they had gotten started on their game), kissed a statue to life like out of a storybook, and was trying to wrap his head around watching the man, named Siobhan, <em> shrink </em>his horse to fit in his pocket, with magic he had never seen before in his life.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>Lambert and Patricia sat in their imperious thrones, exchanging worried looks with their twenty-year-old son and Glenn Fraldarius, who explained in short order, the supposedly apocryphal story of the Prince and the Beast.</p><p>“You mean to say that this Siobhan was alive in the times of my distant ancestor?” Lambert frowned.</p><p>“I suppose that must be it,” Siobhan supplied helpfully as he watched the court mage, Cornelia, flit about him with some strange device he didn’t understand. “Your son is the inheritor of your ancestor’s soul, that would be my best guess.”</p><p>“But you simply <em> can’t </em>be a Gautier,” Patricia piped up, frowning suspiciously. Dimitri may not have been her son by birth, but she cared for and worried for him just the same. “His line was cut off when…”</p><p>“...when I escaped into the forest, yes,” Siobhan sighed, a little tired of explaining at this point. He didn’t understand why these people were so skeptical, especially after the girl, Ingrid, had explained that she’d seen his statue and Glenn knew his story. Nearby, grown to her regular size again, his mare was resting lazily on the rug, still with a primitive saddle and no reins. <em> A cruel system, </em>Siobhan had pointed out when they offered to take Lady to the stables. “I didn’t have any heirs for… obvious reasons,” he shrugged, glancing fondly to Dimitri, who stood at his stepmother’s side, still rigid and quiet with utter bewilderment.</p><p>Dimitri blushed deeply and looked away.</p><p>“He bears the Gautier Crest,” Cornelia confirmed as she stood, her voice grating with both delight and exasperation in the same breath like she’d uncovered a huge discovery in the middle of an important nap. “Or rather, an unknown and unstudied Crest which we can safely <em> assume </em>to be that of Gautier for now. I doubt it is the Crest of the Beast, as the signature looks nothing like that of the young von Edmund girl’s.”</p><p>Lambert rested his forehead wearily in the palm of his hand. “Thank you, Cornelia. Please check up on it as soon as possible.”</p><p>“Of course, Your Majesty.” She bowed shortly, less respectful than the rest were to the King of Faerghus, and swept off with a sample of Siobhan’s blood.</p><p>“So, I suppose you are <em> not </em> the King yet,” Siobhan laughed as he gestured to Dimitri. “My apologies. But I <em> am </em> the Prince of Gautier Land, and you <em> are </em>the Prince of Blaiddyd… just as you told me so long ago.” He stepped forward, his eyes shining with blissful realization. “We can be together again.”</p><p>Dimitri opened his mouth to speak, helpless and confused, but his father spoke for him. “There are <em> many </em> reasons why that won’t be possible, I’m afraid, Lord--ah… <em> Prince </em>Gautier.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “To begin with, there is no longer a Gautier territory. It was given in concession to those of Sreng when they took over our border.”</p><p>Siobhan’s alarm was expected, but smaller. “Ah… well, it does not matter. I have no wish to return to being a prince. My only wish is to be by the side of the beast I love, even as he is a beast no longer.”</p><p><em> “Secondly,” </em>the Queen went on, frowning as Dimitri opened his mouth to speak again. “The one you loved is a distant ancestor of Lambert’s,” she pointed out. “Not my son. He doesn’t even recognize you; you can’t possibly expect him to behave the same way and with the same memories. He is an entirely different person.”</p><p>Siobhan looked up and met Dimitri’s eyes squarely, as if to seek out whether or not this was true. Dimitri stood still, as if being examined by a predator. He didn’t know why, and he wouldn’t admit it in this room full of people, but there was something distantly <em> familiar </em> about his gaze. Like he <em> should </em> know him, even if he didn’t. Like he <em> wanted </em> to know him, and did somehow. He heard his father begin to question Siobhan about the strange and unknown magic he’d conjured, but Dimitri could see Siobhan wasn’t listening. Was looking at him, <em> gazing </em>at him with the fondness of familiarity.</p><p>Something <em> jumped </em>inside Dimitri, something strange and fluttering.</p><p>“Father,” he interrupted as respectfully as possible. “If I may?”</p><p>Lambert blinked. He wasn’t used to being interrupted, but since it was by his beloved son, he didn’t mind. “Of course, Dimitri. What is it?”</p><p>“Prince Gautier has been through much today,” he said quietly. “Returning to life after so long to a foreign age must have exhausted him. And whether it seems plausible or not, he is a Gautier, one of your lords. We can question him tomorrow, can’t we?”</p><p>Siobhan’s smile grew wider.</p><p>“I… I suppose,” Lambert frowned, frustrated. This was all so strange. He’d have to seek counsel from Rodrigue, his right hand, when he returned. He was glad, at least, that this Gautier didn’t expect to rule anything, because there was nothing for him to rule anymore. But with this new Crest entering the picture, he’d have to seek counsel from the Archbishop as well. He wondered about the Lance of Ruin, the fabled Relic of Gautier, hanging high above the Goddess’s altar as if <em> waiting </em> for this day. He gestured to his steward. “Please escort him to our finest room and ensure that he has everything he requires.”<br/>
The steward bowed and moved to do as his King required. As Siobhan departed, Dimitri swore he caught him winking back at him.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>Dimitri knocked carefully on the door before the guard opened it for him. Even though Siobhan had been given a beautiful suite, he was still a stranger and therefore was being watched. As Dimitri entered, his eyes darted around, taking in everything first, as if he worried that his father would have locked him up in a cell or something. But no, there was Siobhan, spread over the bed with a stack of beautiful books beside him, many of them open and being actively referenced. They seemed to be tomes of magic as far as Dimitri could tell, though he could see a page where the Blaiddyd Crest was being displayed.</p><p>Siobhan looked up and his face broke into that warm smile immediately as he closed the book and stood, approaching Dimitri with his arms open, as if to embrace him. “I knew you’d come,” he said quietly, so gentle, so <em> happy.  </em></p><p>Dimitri quickly stepped away. “Not so fast,” he said carefully and Siobhan stopped, though he kept his arms open, still hopeful. “I… I don’t really know what’s going on here. And no matter what you say, I… I <em> don’t </em>know you.”</p><p>Siobhan’s smile faltered, but it was just a stumbling block before the smile returned. He did lower his arms though. “I think, in time, you will start to remember,” he said with a confidence Dimitri absolutely did not feel. “I have been looking for ways to help you regain your memory.”<br/>
Dimitri frowned. “But it isn’t <em> my </em>memory. I don’t have… gaps. You’re thinking of my ancestor. Likely the original Blaiddyd.</p><p>Siobhan shrugged. “Perhaps. But a soul can carry memories from vessel to vessel.”</p><p>“Can you not refer to me as a <em> vessel?” </em> Dimitri shook his head, his frown deepening even as Siobhan’s smile widened. “I’m not who you’re looking for. I’m Dimitri. I’m not--I’m not the same soul you’re looking for.” Dimitri didn’t even know if he believed in souls, but either way, the way Siobhan dismissed him, pretending he was some past lover, was more than unsettling. “I don’t know you and I never have.”</p><p>Slowly, Siobhan sat back down, sinking onto the bed. His smile did not fade, but it changed, becoming weary, almost sad. He had waited for so long. He’d been stone for centuries, waiting for the prophesied day that his beloved beast would come to wake him, and now he was confronted with this young man--who was probably even younger than he was--this prince who denied him. The last thing Siobhan remembered vividly was the guard who plunged her sword into the heart of his beast, and he had hoped to write over that memory with a reunion of love, of remembrance and togetherness.</p><p>Dimitri could see he’d made him upset and the guilt clawed at him. “Prince Gautier… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”</p><p>“I was reading these,” Siobhan said, abruptly changing the subject as he gestured at the books. “I figured… If this is a new era, and you are a new person, so too should I be. What do you think of the name Sylvain?”</p><p>Dimitri sighed through his nose, letting his chest fall, all the tension in his body collapse. “It’s nice,” he said, unsure.</p><p>“Then call me Sylvain,” he requested. “And… I will call you Dimitri.”</p><p>He offered his hand to shake. This prince would have to remember eventually. This was just a temporary setback. And if he had to, Sylvain would <em> drag </em> the memories out by force. He had spent his whole life in quiet, desperate agony until he’d met the beast they called Blaiddyd. If Dimitri had the ability to wake him from the stone, the soul of his beloved was in there somewhere, waiting to be drawn out.</p><p>Dimitri hesitated, but he took his hand.</p><p>And it felt like a hand that his own intimately <em> remembered. </em></p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sorry...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hello everyone,</p><p> </p><p>I'm so sorry it's been taking me so long to write! My best friend and I are moving out of state and we have a lot of stuff to do. Recently I've been going through a lot of crises as well (both in loss and identity) and I appreciate your patience so much.</p><p> </p><p>The annoying part is that I have to move this fic and a few others onto a different A03 profile. I've not set up the new profile yet, so if you wish to follow the newer version of this fic, I'll have it posted on my twitter @Mechanist_Macha so be on the lookout for that as well. <em><strong>IT WILL BE UNDER A DIFFERENT TITLE</strong></em>so please be aware of that!</p><p> </p><p>Thank you so much for the comments and the kudos; I appreciate you all so much and I hope you keep reading! &lt;3333</p>
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